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suspicion that the chilly & detached appearance she mustered in public was but the thinnest of veneers,
beneath which reigned the mightiest state of anxiety, confusion & turmoil. For when I settled down to leaf through that week’s
copy of the Fine Lady, I spotted that the text beneath one sign on the horoscope page had been most vigorously, nay frantically, circled & underlined
in red ink.
    As a Fine Aquarian Lady, you should not tolerate the insolence of subordinates. Make sure they know their place, but allow them leeway in matters that could help you privately. Wear yellow on Thursday afternoon & a bargain will come your way. In romance, tread carefully when recounting your memories to your loved one, lest he suspect you are not all that you have seemed. Remember that to retain her moral stature, the Aquarian Lady must stay on ground level or above at all times, & never descend belowstairs! So if you require something from the cellar, madam, send the maid (provided she does not share your star-sign) to fetch it!
    â€˜Don’t forget to polish the silverware properly today,’ said Fru Krak, swishing in wearing a vile dress of a bright yellow
hue. With a sudden jab of the most pleasurable amusement, I noted that the day was Thursday. ‘Fru Pedersen found a speck of
what looked like blood on her fork on Wednesday when we were lunching.’
    â€˜It was probably a touch of tarnish, ma’am,’ I murmured. ‘Are you going shopping?’ (For there were surely bargains to be had
in Christensen & Jakobsen’s haberdashery on a day like this, if one was clad like a canary!)
    â€™Tarnish? Well, get rid of it, girl! Do you not recall that I am originally a Bischen-Baschen? Do you think it likely that a Bischen-Baschen
would even contemplate displaying tarnished cutlery to her guests? Yes, I am indeed on my way out, & when I return shall make a point of inspecting
the silverware to ensure you have done your job adequately.’
    Seeing that she was working herself into quite a lather, I made the right placatory & humble noises, & when she had left the house – with a warning that she ‘would not tolerate the insolence of subordinates, who come from depths to which I would not dream of descending’ (ha!) – I resolved to read Fru Krak’s horoscope as avidly as she did, in future, in order to anticipate her crazes, anxieties
& whims. When she returned by carriage two hours later with bulging bags & the smug smile of a woman who has paid a lot of money for something worthless but has not yet discovered it, I could not help but laugh gleefully to myself, for it confirmed that I had important information on my side.
    And when one has that, it is never long before one finds a way of using it!
    And so began our new life as servants of the sour-faced & foolishly gullible Fru Krak, a new life shaken only by a disquieting
visit I made to the former housekeeper Gudrun Olsen in mid-November, in the third week of our employ, at the insistence of
Else, who had played cards with her that Friday & had received, she said, ‘a terrible scare’ regarding the Krak household,
which I must, repeat must, pay heed to. Afterwards, I wished I had not taken her advice, for when things are going well, one
does not care to dwell on what might turn sour. But there is no crying over spilt milk, & in any case, if the truth be told,
the things I learned that day – unsettling though they were – could not but spark my interest all the more.
    I had followed Else’s scatty directions to the laundry as best I could, but the waterfront was a maze & had it not been for
the help of a tall, lanky-limbed man, his face entirely hidden by a balaclava, whom I found suddenly walking alongside me
on Strandboulevarden, I would never have found the warehouse where Gudrun Olsen worked. Once it was within sight, my mysterious
balaclava’d saviour took his leave, & I headed for a square